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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29211162">No Use, I Just Do</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporadic_obsession/pseuds/sporadic_obsession'>sporadic_obsession</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Time Skip, atsumu is also an idiot in love, sakusa is an idiot in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:20:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,365</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29211162</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporadic_obsession/pseuds/sporadic_obsession</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakusa Kiyoomi wonders how he fell in love with Miya Atsumu, while staring at him across the table.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>218</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No Use, I Just Do</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sakuatsu brainrot is back!!!<br/>The love of my life - aka Hayley Williams - just released a new album, and this one song called - you guessed it! - ‘No Use I Just Do’ inspired my sakuatsu loving heart. Enjoy the fluff!<br/>If you want to scream at me on twitter about this, you can find me <a href="https://twitter.com/sprdc_obssn">here!</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sakusa Kiyoomi looks at Miya Atsumu as if he hung the stars.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The others don’t see it that way, because Sakusa’s expressions are as subtle as the leaves changing colors in autumn. They don’t understand that his narrowed eyes and pinched eyebrows are not out of contempt, but of wonder. They don’t understand that his constant dismissal of the man is not out of hatred, but self-preservation. You see, Sakusa Kiyoomi is a reserved man; he keeps to himself, talks to his buttons and to his cats more than he does to people, most often. He doesn’t even know why it is that he decided to accept the captain’s invite to join them in celebration of a match won earlier today. He knows only one thing though -</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is absolutely fascinated by Miya Atsumu.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the blonde setter laughs and takes a quick sip of his non-alcoholic beverage - Kiyoomi didn’t bother hearing the name, though he regrets it now - he can’t look away. He doesn’t even pretend not to be staring; he doesn’t care what people think of him enough to look away. He only ever looks away when Hinata Shouyou, in his usual show of exuberance, waves his glass in the air for a toast, and Kiyoomi is pulled into joining in, despite the fact his glass is almost empty, the drink he’d ordered earlier when they arrived close to completely gone. Kiyoomi indulges Shouyou only because no one can resist his charms, not even him, but goes back to his unabashed staring right after.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kiyoomi finds Atsumu as captivating as one of the seven wonders of the world. The way he laughs loud and wide, as if he’s never known pain before, peaks his curiosity. The way his droopy eyelids seem to etch his face into a permanent sultry expression is enchanting. The way the brown of his eyes can shift between warm earthy tones, when he is happy and satisfied, and cold chocolate hues, when he is angry and disappointed, is much too fascinating. The accent in his voice that grows thicker the more he </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels</span>
  </em>
  <span> - be it happiness, rage, or something different altogether - is like music to Kiyoomi’s ears, and he has vowed to learn every lilt and change until he can replicate it in the quiet of his room, as he lays in bed in hopes for sleep to catch him in its clutches.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The spiker never meant to fall in love with Miya Atsumu, and he sometimes wonders if maybe his love is just a byproduct of his loneliness. All of his life, he has kept people at a distance - not always his own choice, if not a consequence of his personality and attitude, but it happened nonetheless. But Atsumu, with his stubborn kindness that he covered up with arrogance, never allowed himself to be pushed away. So even as Kiyoomi glares at him across the table of the izakaya he’s been dragged to with their teammates, he sees the setter’s eyes flicker over and his lips twist into a softer smile, one he reserves only for Kiyoomi. He had forced his way into Kiyoomi’s life like he had a reservation and was tired of waiting for his table, barging into his carefully crafted nest and wreaking havoc until it was all rearranged to accommodate him. And Kiyoomi, weakened by those eyes and the warmth they emitted whenever he so much as glanced at Atsumu, had let him do as he pleased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a slow, gradual process, despite everything. At first, it started with short, barely there pats to his shoulders during practice. It evolved into high-fives after a point well hit during matches. Then came the arm over his shoulders during team shuffles back to the locker room when their matches were over - excited and bubbly if they won, or comforting and needy when they lost. The house visits came next, with Atsumu making room for his favorite snacks in Kiyoomi’s cupboards, and starting a steadily growing collection of DVDs for them to watch together under his television in the living room. Before Kiyoomi even realised it, they were sharing kisses in the quiet of his bedroom, skin burning where it was pressed together. Weekly visits became more frequent, and although they never shared kisses or intimate touches outside the safety of either of their homes, Kiyoomi was completely gone for this man, who had pestered him with so much respect for his boundaries, it threw him for a loop at first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, here he stands - or sits, in this instance - staring at the love of his life, and wondering just how he came to love someone like this.</span>
</p>
<p><span>In the back of his head, the questions still plague him, constantly. Is it the loneliness that has made him give in to this man? The fact he has been alone all of his life, his body craving the touch of someone else while also rejecting it completely, finally catching up to him? Is it because Kiyoomi has never had someone so willing to try and love him despite his shortcomings, or the fact that despite how many times he fails - how many times Kiyoomi finds himself pulling away before his brain catches up that </span><em><span>it’s</span></em> <em><span>okay</span></em><span>, </span><em><span>it’s</span></em> <em><span>Atsumu</span></em><span> - the setter never gives up on his affections? Atsumu is the opposite of Kiyoomi - while Atsumu is open about his emotions, easygoing, friendly, Kiyoomi is reserved, detached; how do two people who have such different personalities fit together so well?</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Kiyoomi startles slightly as a new drink is placed in front of him, replacing his previously empty glass on the coaster he claimed on the table. He looks from the liquid, still settling down after being jostled around, and then up to Atsumu again, who simply nods, almost imperceptibly, and softens his smile for a second, before going back to his conversation with Bokuto Koutarou, whose arm is resting upon the setter’s shoulders. Kiyoomi thinks that, if he were a better man, this would be the point where he would thank the person he loves for his considerate action, and perhaps would even offer him a kiss for his trouble. Kiyoomi is not a better man, however, so he simply grabs the drink and takes a sip of his favorite drink, lips curving over the rim of his glass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He places his beverage down once again and continues to stare, admiring the crinkles by Atsumu’s eyes as he laughs at something Koutarou says. Kiyoomi is not paying attention to the conversations going on around him, so he has no idea what the man just said, but once again regrets not knowing - he wants to store away whatever words might pull another full-body laughter out of Atsumu for future reference. He settles for watching the setter across the table instead of trying to ask what was said, however, leaning back in his seat and shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he does. He thinks back to his questions and doubts, allowing the voices to bounce around his head until they become static, keeping his brain busy as he continues to admire the man he loves with an expression akin to a hateful glare, given how intensely he’s staring.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Back when he first realized he was developing feelings for Atsumu, Kiyoomi had believed it impossible that he would ever fall for such a man. Atsumu was crass and loud and a disturbance of his routine; there was no way Kiyoomi would ever fall for him and allow his heart to be taken by him. He’d landed on the conclusion that the only reason why it felt like he was falling in love with Atsumu was because he was lonely. He’d looked to correct that. Before things could become something more between the two, Kiyoomi had gone out of his way to search for company elsewhere. He’d tried his fair share of blind dating, sponsored by his meddling cousin who was a little too happy to set him up with random people he thought would match Kiyoomi’s standards. And the problem was, they were all very much aligned with Kiyoomi’s preferences - quiet, cultural, calm. Yet, every single time he rejected the offer for a second date.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every single time, he found himself closing his eyes and imagining Atsumu in their stead, no matter how hard he tried not to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped going on those dates the first time he caught a small, barely there hint of sadness in Atsumu’s eyes when he mentioned what he was doing. Their relationship moved through its natural course then, with Atsumu becoming more present and taking more of Kiyoomi’s time until he found it stranger when he wasn’t around than when he was. Their touches became more intimate and their lips well-acquainted with all of each other; their conversations ran deeper, soft whispers about the past and the fears of what the future could hold. Their hands traced paths through their skins and marked it as they went, gentle reminders that they belonged to one another in the end. Even though no one else knew, because Kiyoomi likes to keep private and Atsumu respects him too much to defy him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thing is, Kiyoomi knows Atsumu wants to shout it from the rooftops that they’re together. He sees it in the way his fingers twitch whenever their hands hang side by side when they walk out of practice together. He feels it in the way he always asks him for a hug before they leave either of their apartments to go somewhere, as if he wants to memorize the way Kiyoomi’s arms fit around him. He hears it in his voice when it strains to answer one of their teammates’ incessant questions about the hickey on his neck, or the lack of a significant other in his life. And Kiyoomi… well, he loves Atsumu.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the longest time, Kiyoomi has been scared of love. It feels much too grand, much too important, for a person such as himself. He always believed he’d be living his days alone, dying with a few familiar faces surrounding him, maybe, but none important enough to be granted the keys to his heart. And then Atsumu went and proved him wrong. The setter waltzed into Kiyoomi’s life with his wide grin and bleach-blonde hair, and took him for a spin across the dance floor. The very definition of love that is Miya Atsumu took a look at cold and lonely Sakusa Kiyoomi, and chose to embrace him and promise him forever between freshly washed sheets, no matter what conditions he imposed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is about time Kiyoomi gives him something back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sheesh, Omi-san, you don’t have to glare so hard. What did Atsumu-san ever do to you anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kiyoomi is once again distracted from his own thoughts by Hinata Shouyou, their team’s opposite hitter who tries maybe a little too hard to be friends with everyone - Kiyoomi included. The outside hitter has learned to tolerate Shouyou in small doses - he’s good at respecting his space, and he can tone down his eccentric nature whenever Kiyoomi is around, which is good. Now, he finds himself looking at the orange-haired man, and the words tumble from his lips before he catches them, before he can second-guess what they mean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stole my heart.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s no embarrassment from saying such a cliché phrase, not even when he hears the gasps of his teammates, indicating they all heard his confession. They must’ve been focusing on his and Hinata’s conversation, expecting another one of Kiyoomi’s quips about Atsumu’s overbearing personality or the piss-blonde hair he used to have during his high school years. Kiyoomi really doesn’t care that they’re all staring at him, words stuck in their throats as they try to make sense of why he just said what he did. He pays no mind to any of their expressions, because Atsumu is looking back at him with such unbidden happiness - Kiyoomi actually feels a little dizzy. Still, he doesn’t look away, instead offering his boyfriend the soft twist of his lips that they usually reserve for the comfort of their privately shared spaces.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Omi-omi, yer gonna make me blush,” Atsumu says from his spot, but he doesn’t stay there for long. Disregarding Bokuto’s gaping expression, he shuffles his way to sit by Kiyoomi’s side, immediately wrapping his own arm around his shoulders and leaning closer to whisper in his ear. “I thought we were keepin’ it a secret, babe,” the setter reminds him, and his accent fluctuates amidst his words, back and forth like soft summer waves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to, anymore,” Kiyoomi replies, and turns his face just enough to stare at Atsumu once more, immediately feeling warm from the shine in his eyes - golden specks dance against the brown of his irises, as if there’s honey being swirled into hot cocoa to create the sweetest mix. “I was thinking about us, about how much you’ve adapted to me… and how much I did nothing back.” He places a finger on Atsumu’s lips before he can interrupt, a smile playing on his own when he feels his pout against the digit. “I used to wonder if maybe we were just together because I was so lonely, and I keep trying to figure out how this happened, when it all changed, but… it’s no use. I just love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lowering his hand and freeing Atsumu’s lips doesn’t earn him a verbal response. Instead, he finds his eyes fluttering closed as he feels his boyfriend’s lips press against his in an innocent kiss. It’s short-lived, mindful of the many eyes upon them, but it’s enough of an answer for Kiyoomi. He knows how much Atsumu loves him, because of everything he has done and continues to do for him every day. Kiyoomi has every intention to give back just as much; he will give everything he can - and even what he can’t - so Atsumu will remain by his side, happy and glowing like he is right now. Resistance has been futile from day one. Doubting and questioning it has always been fruitless, and will continue to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s no use - he just loves him.</span>
</p>
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